They Don't Know about Us

Chapter 26 - Reunions & Realizations

The Malik ancestral haveli stood like something out of time — a grand old soul wrapped in sandstone and stories. As the cars turned through the arched gates, Riddhima felt her breath catch. The haveli resembled a huge palace. Balconies draped in marigolds overlooked sprawling courtyards; carved wooden doors gleamed under the afternoon sun, a large fountain in front of the entrance. The place screamed royalty.

"No wonder Anjali's a snob about her wealth" Muskaan muttered under her breath, making Riddhima widen her eyes at her.

Ananya smiled proudly as she stepped out of the car. "Feels good to be home," she said, smoothing her dupatta. She had been welcomed into this home as a new bride, she had her first born here, the place simply held too many memories.

Behind her, Muskaan and Riddhima climbed out of Armaan's car — both awed, blinking against the golden light. Sneha followed, tugging her designer bag higher on her shoulder, wrinkling her nose slightly at the heat. Stretching her limbs she groaned.

"It's beautiful, aunty," Riddhima said softly, admiring the place.

"Wait till you meet everyone inside." Ananya grinned. "They've been waiting for us". Riddhima smiled and followed her inside, as Armaan and Rahul took care of getting the bags out of the trunks with the help of servants.

Inside, the haveli was even more breathtaking. Intricate arches opened into a high-ceilinged hall lined with ancestral portraits, men in crisp sherwanis, women in silks, eyes painted with dignity and memory. Riddhima walked through the corridor, admiring the generational familial portraits.

A voice called out warmly, "Ananya beta!" An elderly woman descended the stairs — elegant even in simplicity, wrapped in ivory chiffon, her silver hair glowing in the light. Ananya hurried forward and bent to touch her feet.

"Maaji!"

"Arre, I thought you'd forgotten this old house," the woman teased. Her gaze shifted to the three girls behind her, softening. "And these must be Anjali's friends?"

Ananya smiled, beckoning them closer. "Yes, Maaji — this is Muskaan, Riddhima, and Sneha. Anjali's closest friends, practically family."

Each of them stepped forward in turn. Muskaan bowed quickly, her grin wide and genuine. "Namaste, Dadi." She touched her feet, taking her blessing.

Sneha followed, "Pleasure to meet you." Instead of bowing down and touching her feet as a form of respect, she stuck her hand out and grinned. Dadi looked at her hand, then at her, and then at her hand again. She muttered a 'hmm" and looked behind at everyone else, disinterested.

"She's acting like she's meeting Anjali's friend not her grandmother" Muskaan snickered under her breath earning a 'shh' from Riddhima.

And then Riddhima — calm, graceful, dupatta drawn neatly across her shoulder. "Namaste, Dadi." She moved forward, with a gentle smile and bowed down, touching her feet. There was something different about the girl. She had a different spark in her eyes.

The old woman's eyes lingered on her a moment longer, her smile deepening. "Such a gentle presence," she said. "Jeeti raho." Dadi kept a hand on her head, blessing her.

"Thank you," Riddhima murmured, lowering her gaze.

"Humari dulhan kahan hai?" Turning to Ananya, she asked.

"She and her father are both touring the haveli from the outside with the wedding planner" Ananya laughed.

From across the hall, Armaan appeared — casual as ever, sleeves rolled up, laughing at something Rahul said. The second his eyes found her, though, the laughter faltered for half a heartbeat. It was barely a flicker — a glance, a small exhale, then the return of his usual composure — but Riddhima felt it. The same secret rhythm pulsing beneath everything.